Mellark Family Life
by thehuntedhunter
Summary: After the war, Katniss and Peeta try to regain some semblance of normality in their lives. This collection of short stories is about their family life together and their love as the years pass. *Post Mockingjay/Post Epilogue
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's Note**__: This is the first chapter or part of a series of Post-Epilogue snippets I will be writing. They won't be long, but I will add to this series every so often. So, I hope you enjoy them. Note that I made the names of the children up – Prue in honour of Prim and Rue, as I think Katniss would have done, and Luis (said 'Lewis') because it's cute and I can. This chapter serves as a sort of introduction to their family and life Post-Epilogue._

_**Disclaimer:**__ I don't own the Hunger Games or any characters. All credit (except children's names) goes to Suzanne Collins._

* * *

I'm running fast, tearing through the underbrush. Snarling tendrils stretch out from the leaves and grab at me. The stench of roses fills my nose, overloading my senses and making me sick. Everything blurs past me, spinning my world dizzyingly. But there's something ahead of me too, something I am trying desperately to reach. Just a little further… I reach my hand forward to grasp hers, needing to touch her—

I awake with a start, jolting myself into consciousness. My whole body is shivering, sending a hot wave down my aching frame despite the cold. Darkness floods the room, making it seem unfamiliar and poisonous. I feel shaky, like a leaf about to fall.

"Katniss?" comes a concerned murmur in my ear. I immediately relax at the sound of his voice. I've come to my senses enough now to realise that Peeta's arms are wrapped around me, holding me close to him. I melt into his strength, grateful that I don't have to suffer this alone. "Bad dream?" he asks.

I nod softly and feel the welling that has begun in my eyes in my eyes start to dry up. He strokes my hair gently and places a light kiss on the back of my neck. "Well, it's over now." His reassurance makes everything better. I turn to face him, looking into his baby blue eyes. I see a tinge of sadness in them—he knows my pain. We lie like that for a while, watching one another, content in our embrace.

Before long, there's an almost inaudible knock on the door, and a sliver of yellow light is cast across the room. It grows as the door creaks further open. Peeta and I smile at each other before we turn to face the two small figures silhouetted in the doorway, holding hands. "Now who could be coming into our room at this hour?" I say teasingly. The giggling forms run towards the bed, leaping onto it so it bounces. "Oh it's you!" I say as my children fumble their way across the sheets. Now it's my turn to laugh.

Peeta moves away a little, opening up a space between us for the two to snuggle down. I open my arms, kissing the top of my daughter's head.

"Mommy, that tickles!" She cuddles closer to me, squashing her plush rabbit between us.

"Sorry Prue, what tickles?" I smother her with kisses, and she starts her little fit of giggles again.

Peeta is holding our son in his arms, whispering something into his ear. Luis smiles, accentuating his tiny dimples. "Now go hug your mom," I hear Peeta whisper. Luis scoots over to Prue and I clumsily, giving his sister a squeeze as he does. Peeta moves over too, and wraps his arm around all of us. We're one big, happy pile of a family. And at that moment, I feel as though I'm the luckiest person in the world.

We fall asleep like this, huddled together. The cold seems to disappear and the suffocating air becomes lighter. The nightmares find me no more.

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_**Author's Note: **__Thanks for reading; I'll try to update it soon. Feel free to leave a review, or alert me to any spelling/grammar I've missed._


	2. Chapter 2

_**Author's Note:**__ Part two, guys. This one's really snippety, just a snapshot of daily life._

_**Disclaimer:**__ I don't own the Hunger Games or any characters. All credit (except children's names) goes to Suzanne Collins._

* * *

I open my eyes slowly, letting them adjust to the bright morning sunlight streaming through the window. It's a lovely day outside, I observe as I look out on the garden. I can see the Primroses lining the path up to the house. I can see the veggie patch that Prue loves so much – even if her produce isn't always show quality, I have to say it's impressive for a six year old. I can see the oak that Peeta and I planted in the first year we were married. It's getting big now. The grass looks soft, like your feet would get lost in it.

I stretch, curling and uncurling every limb whilst yawning. I notice the empty space beside me, and then the noises coming from the kitchen. The smell of fresh bread reaches me and I sit up, drinking in the glorious morning sensations. At that moment, Prue walks in holding a tray.

"Good morning Mommy! I brought you breakfast," she says excitedly. I smile and help her as she tries to set the tray on my lap.

"Wow, Prue, this looks amazing," I say, "did you make this?"

"Yes, and Daddy helped me." She looks up at me through her long eyelashes, under which hide her striking blue eyes. She has her father's eyes.

"Did he? Where is Daddy?"

"He's in the kitchen with Luis. They're making something special."

"I wonder what that could be…" I say, lifting Prue up next to me once I've got the tray in place. She settles down beside me, eager for me to taste her latest culinary concoction. There's a piece of toast, some sliced fruit (no doubt from her garden) and a mug of hot chocolate with a bit of cream on top. She knows I love cream – an unfortunate weakness I developed as a result of the coffee in 13. I lift the cup to my mouth and take a sip of the sweet liquid before passing it to her. Whenever she brings me breakfast we sit together on the bed and share it, simply liking the company.

It's not long before the tray is empty, save for the crumbs of toast and the juice from the fruit. But now there's a new smell – the telltale aroma of one of Peeta's cakes.

We get up and head to the kitchen, returning the tray and sneaking a peek in the oven.

"Hey, that's a surprise, Mommy!" comes Luis' cry. He's perched on a stool next to the bench, as it will be a few years before he can reach it himself. I laugh and back away from the oven, hands raised.

"But Lu, I really want that cake."

"I know, but you have to wait. It's not _ready_," he says, matter-of-factly. A small frown has developed on his baby face.

"Alright, alright." I walk over to where Peeta is washing the sticky mixture off the bowl, shaking his head and smiling at Lu's professional attitude.

"You should know better, Mommy Katniss." He reprimands me lightly as he dries the dish. "Go sit at the table, I'll be there soon."

"With the cake?"

"With the cake."

Satisfied with his promise of sweet things to come, I move to the table, where Prue is waiting. Luis hops off the stool, stumbles a little and joins us. Shortly, Peeta comes into the room with a steaming cake, filling the air with the scent of lemons. Today, there is no fancy icing, just a light dusting of sugar and cinnamon.

"There we are. Now, who's ready for some morning tea?" He asks, dusting off his hands. The kids' hands shoot up immediately – they never say no to cake. I smile and nod at Peeta, who is already cutting a piece for each of us. As always, the cake is amazing, and our plates are clean in minutes.

"Now, was that worth the wait, sweetheart?" Peeta smiles at me as I pick the last few crumbs from my plate.

"It definitely was, thankyou. You did a wonderful job, Lou."

"I know, Mommy. Come on Prue, I want to play outside." He's already hopping off his chair, his 4-year-old attention span getting the better of him.

The children run out to play in the garden then, leaving Peeta and I to clean up. We take the dishes to the sink and wash them, side by side, not needing to speak. Occasionally our hands meet in the warm soapy water, or my shoulder brushes his as I move to put the plates away. When we're done, we move to the living room, where he stretches out on one of the couches and pulls me down next to him. Lying back, I let his hand slide to rest on my hip, as his other drapes over my stomach. He kisses the top of my head tenderly.

I was right; it is a beautiful day, and nothing can take this moment from me. This second, right here with Peeta, could last forever.

* * *

_**Author's Note: **__Once again, feedback is appreciated :) Shout out to Kiara for making me write! Any suggestions? Happy to hear them. Lol why are you even reading a K+ story don't you guys just want to read porn_


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